Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Slovakia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Electric Light Orchestra to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
The Seeds,
Hashim,
The Martian,
the Normal,
Ultravox,
Groovy Waters,
Sarah Menescal,
Piero Umiliani,
The Music Machine,
Crime,
The Selecter,
Scientists,
Howard Jones,
Sällskapet,
Inner City,
Don Cherry,
Guru Guru,
FM Einheit,
Moby Grape,
The Remains,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Searchers,
Roxette,
The Victims,
Gichy Dan,
Sun Ra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
UT,
MC5,
Sonny Sharrock,
Icehouse,
Harmonia,
Vainqueur,
ABC,
Albert Ayler,
The Wake,
Pylon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Metal Thangz,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Shuggie Otis,
Aswad,
Duran Duran,
Quando Quango,
Flipper,
Godley & Creme,
The Velvet Underground,
Sister Nancy,
Motorama,
Dennis Brown,
Schoolly D,
Spoonie Gee,
Hot Snakes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bobby Womack,
Man Parrish,
Joey Negro,
Henry Cow,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.